She would read magazines out loud to us on long car rides…and we would all groan…and complain and pretend we didn’t want to listen…

but the view outside was boring and it was a welcome change, so we listened and learned something.

I remember my mom craning her neck and turning herself sideways so that we could see the pictures in the magazines and understand the subtleties in her voice.

She was a preschool teacher so she knew how to read out loud…

how to be suspenseful, tricky, magical and funny.

Her birthday is this week-end and I’ll try to think of a present that is good enough.

A present that can come close to the gift she gave me…my love of books.

You and I both know I don’t stand a chance.

All I can do is send her these words and have her know,

really know,

how much I valued her joy in literature,

her big hearted tears that would come with every Erma Bombeck essay,

her love of Snoopy’s wisdom

and Judith Viorst’s tender witness to parenthood.

Her book-love so infected me that when it came time to choose places to live…I angled and finagled my world so that I could be within walking distance to our city library…my dream as a child.

It came true in adulthood.

I can walk to the library, bike to a bookstore, wander to a city bench to read and read.

It’s one of my greatest joys and I have my mom to thank.

*****

Today I have four kids of my own…

and reading is a big part of our world too.

There are plenty of things I would re-do but sneaking to bed late because we’re caught up in a book isn’t one.

Without fail, the best part of my day is reading with my children right before bed.

It can be hard juggling bedtimes and kids’ needs but it is worth every effort for those moments of connection and calm joy.

If your child is a strong independent reader…who cares?!

Don’t lose those moments to read the even deeper, more suspenseful, more emotional, more messy and poignant, beautiful books of young adult literature together.

I know my kids don’t probably remember any of these moments but I am going to share them here anyway…

if only as a time capsule to seal away and forever hold close.

*****

Thank you to Jack…for letting me hear you giggle over Captain Underpants in second grade.

As a teacher, I looked down on that series of books…

watching you read that book on your own and laugh out loud, my heart was turned.

I became the best evangelist for inappropriate potty humor around.

Thank you for sharing with me Harry Potter.

I know you could have read that on your own…

but it was like the very best kept secret to share with you.

I will never forget riding bikes to get Harry Potter 3 on that summer day — the day it was finally released — and eagerly stopping even before we got home (!) to begin reading because we just couldn’t wait one more minute.

Thank you to Mary Kate…my reluctant reader…who holds as a prize the title

“no interest in reading anything ever” with pride…

for my tender, miraculous moment of tears over Charlotte’s death in Charlotte’s Web.

Later, we guiltily devoured the Twilight series (ssshhhh, never reveal to anyone our impassioned love of vampires and werewolves) and I cherish that silly series for it connected me to you.

Thank you to Patrick for the beauty in watching you learn to read.

Thank you for always being willing to sit on a lap or later lay in a bed and read.

My favorite book we have shared so far was Winn-Dixie.

Listening to that little lonely girl make friends with so many different types of people in her wonderful guileless way was just what my heart needed.